


Investment

by orphan_account



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Alliances, Gen, Illegal Activities, Renegade - Freeform, investments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just days before Renegade's identity is made public, Rita is sought out as a funding source by a former enemy. --or: Rita lives and thinks big.





	Investment

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight on Not Another Rita Lives Fic: a glance at what she might've done if she'd lived all the way to the season four finale. This does follow the other two Rita fics I wrote, but it's not necessary to read them. Thank you and please enjoy.

* * *

 

“So, let’s recap my year here here: my boss was killed in a helicopter explosion; I’m unemployed; the entire city of Seattle’s been walled off from the world; I’m living in luxury here with _zero_ responsibility; and you want _me_ to help you?”

This must be what it felt like to be Vaughn, powerful, rich, a last resort for anyone with even a shred of morals. How desperate must Liv be if she’s here, at Rita’s house in an exclusive Seattle neighborhood, seeking out an old enemy for help?

“It’s life or death,” Liv says. “I thought even _you_ might care about that.”

“I don’t.” Rita shrugs, brushing her hair—dyed a darker red yesterday—back over her shoulder. “Not sorry. Is that all?”

Liv takes a deep breath, and Rita swears she sees almost enough anger in her to set off rage mode—that’s what they’re calling it these days, right? Wouldn’t _that_ be a sight: a coyote’s ally, soliciting money to sneak people in and out of a bona fide quarantine zone.

Maybe, if she can get that reaction out of her, Rita will through her a few grand.

Liv, however, disappoints—as usual—and sighs away the anger, leaving behind grim determination and that pathetic sadness she just can’t seem to shake. Rita knows that feeling now, the ache of being separated from who and what they used to be, the end of life as they knew it, immortality at an exorbitant cost.

The difference is that Rita hides it the same way she’s hidden everything else except her pride.

“The military is talking about nuking us,” Liv says. “Wiping us off the map. Eliminating the ‘zombie problem’ for good.”

“And helping make _more_ zombies is your idea of fighting back,” Rita says, a question pressed flat and unforgiving.

“Renegade gives people their health back.”

“And signs their death warrant in a bloody scratch.”

“Isn’t that worth it?” Liv throws up her hands, voice rising. “Quality of life for however long they have left—I’m a doctor. It’s what I wanted to do with my life, is save people, let them live out the rest of their lives without feeling like every breath’ll be their last.

“If you don’t want to help with that, then help Renegade get humans out of here and back to their families. There’s _tons_ of those.”

Rita waits, expecting Liv to say _please_ with wide, teary eyes, almost _wanting_ her to. The pieces had slid together for her halfway through that little speech: Olivia Moore, the zombie with a savior complex, whose only source of joy is solving murders and using her disease as a tool, has once again taken it upon herself to be a hero. Hearing her beg would be so, _so_ satisfying.

But the plea never comes. Rita plucks the toothpick out of her martini glass, eats the olive and piece of brain off it as if there’s food to spare for all Seattle’s zombies, and leans forward, elbows on her dining room table.

“Oh, Renegade,” she coos, putting her toothpick on the cloth placemat in front of her. Liv visibly tenses under her gaze. “You’re such a sap, and so _naïve._ Why risk coming to me for help when I could just as soon turn you in?”

She expects Liv to grit her teeth and admit defeat, maybe storm off in a huff and rant at her boyfriend, who’s waiting for her outside—but like the night she punched the woman she’d only known then as Gilda, she surprises Rita.

Liv stands her ground, giving a laugh of disdain. “Like Fillmore Graves could offer you a reward that’s worth your while? You don’t want fame, and you don’t need money. You have all the brains, booze, and boytoys you could ever want. Helping Renegade—helping _me_ —would give you back a little of what you used to have: power. Influence. _Control.”_

Snickering, a dark, low sound, Rita smirks. It’s a good assessment of who she is, she’ll give her that much. If she hadn’t already made up her mind, that would’ve done it.

“Five thousand,” Rita says, and the look on Liv’s face tells her she hadn’t believed her gamble would pay off. This is already proving fun. “For starters. Prove you’re worth the investment, and then we’ll see about another payment.”

She would know about investments. A large portion of her inheritance is being managed by a small, exclusive firm that delivers consistently high returns. That money alone could convince the government to back off on wiping out Seattle and cutting off potential future capital from its elites—but even money only buys so much time. Better to lose a few hundred millions than risk the species’s extinction.

Renegade is a risky venture with little promise of worthwhile returns, but it’s _amusing_ —and that’s all Rita really has anymore.

“Thank—”

“Wait here,” Rita says, standing with unnecessary show, tossing her head so her hair catches the light. “This is a cash transaction, no middleman. You understand _that_ much, right?”

Liv presses her lips together and nods.

Smirking, Rita saunters off to get the amount promised.

 

* * *

 

Later, when the Renegade documentary goes public, Rita sets aside enough cash for three more illegal trips across the border—two for whoever Renegade chooses, and one for Rita herself.

Because if there’s one thing she’s learned in the last few years, it’s that there are no guarantees in life or undeath.

For now, she’ll fund Liv’s little game; and maybe this time, Rita will finally outrun death and despair.


End file.
